I gained a great deal from our zoom call with Richard Stremme. For one, I acquired a great admiration for the punk rockers of the 1970s. They were highly ambitious and made immense financial sacrifices for their musical passion. In order to market their music, they had to create their own zines, reach out to bands and utilize artistry. They were true hustlers. This history rebutted my perception that the punk rockers were lazy. I thought many of them raged against the machine and the establishment because they didn’t want to work. Isn’t it common knowledge that they just wanted to scream at the top of their lungs? However, Rich’s description sold me on the idea that punk rockers were thoughtful people whose work and motivations were as legitimate as any other group of musicians. In addition, in the words of Rich, they engaged in a “labor of love,” as they always had to invest more money into financing their projects and almost never broke even. Breaking even was a fantastic accomplishment. They pursued art purely for its own sake in the same fashion as Robert Mapplethorpe. I think the message of punk art, described by Rich as raw individual expression, was influenced by its artists’ pure dedication to their work as opposed to money. Since they didn’t need to satisfy commercial interests, their art could be an outlet for the fullest expression of their individual selves. Additionally, since many of the early punk rock artists were not beholden to record labels, their message was not regulated from the top-down. They could be as anti-establishment and boundary-breaking as they wished. Thus, there is some truth to the idea that in art, there is purity in poverty. One who is not influenced by money and simply wants to produce art for an artistic purpose will likely create more authentic art. They will create art which is not reflective of market desires, but of their internal monologue. This is an oversimplification to some degree, as one can have multiple motivations and find a way to produce art which is both marketable and artistically fulfilling. However, one who does rely on the market will always be inhibited in their creative output to some extent-as they will be moved by its forces-even if such influence is subconscious. There are a couple of points to be made about three things which were raised during the zoom call. The first relates to the anti-racist thread of punk rock and the album called “Ashamed to be White.” Anti-racism has defined the cultural zeitgeist in recent years. The Black Lives Matter movement, as a social movement, was supported by a majority of Americans. Additionally, the capitalist establishment-meaning large corporations-were also heavily supportive of BLM. Furthermore, today, MLK is a figure who is revered by both sides of the political aisle. However, during the 1970s, racial egalitarianism was the subject of a polarized culture war. Those who critiqued their own whiteness-a notion which still raises eyebrows today-were regarded as extremist radicals. I may not agree with the idea that white people should feel guilt over racial injustices. I suspect Kimberly Drew would agree. The greatest degree of responsibility lies at the hand of systems of discrimination rather than individuals. Nevertheless, I sympathize with what the punk rock artists did. At the time, white pride was an unvoiced but highly influential idea that shaped racist power structures. In discussing whiteness in a critical way, the punk rockers questioned the assumptions of white superiority, which were often left unquestioned. Although white people shouldn’t feel a sense of shame in their identity, this genre of anti-racist punk art expressed deeper reservations about the harmful exclusion at the heart of “whiteness.” Egalitarian racial dialogue is a critical issue and we should all be grateful to punk rockers for pushing the envelope towards equality and away from hierarchy. A second point concerns the straight edge movement in punk rock. This was a movement to abstain from drugs, alcohol and promiscuous sex, which were perceived as excesses of punk rock. These behaviors had become so ingrained in punk rock culture that to be contrarian meant to be as abstinent as a Mormon. I think the same kind of reaction to the excesses of the punk rock lifestyle were paralleled in new age movements during the same time which were seeking meaning in spirituality. Just as punk rock was countercultural, eastern religions were perceived as distinct from Christian American culture. Today, arguably the No-Fap movement and the popularity of a “trad” lifestyle on social media platforms represent a reactionary response to greater openness to sexuality and pornography. Even so, these latter movements come from a place of close mindedness and are heavily influenced by the far-right. That is a potential reason why these contemporary trends do not inspire art like straight edge did. Straight edge, new age, vegetarianism and other searches for purity were part of a pursuit of an altruistic ethic and represented an attempt to open one’s mind to new ways of thought. On the other hand, the tendencies of intolerance and closing oneself off from the world seem to animate the contemporary pietistic movements more than openness. To become a traditionalist is not to explore something new, but to tap into a nostalgic, imagined ideal of restriction. Art must be creative and therefore must explore new ideas. That requires an openness, which is why great art was inspired by straight edge but has not been sparked by contemporary puritanical movements. A third point to make is regarding the neo-Nazis. Rich said he was opposed to punk rockers kicking anyone out of their audience because of their potential for violence in reaction to their exclusion. I would argue that tolerating neo-Nazis or other extreme figures emboldens and strengthens them. If they exist unhampered within one’s art audience, they can spread and grow. It is up to an artist to regulate their audience and to exclude hateful people-so that they don’t possess the influence necessary to cause significant harm. Otherwise, one’s message can be co-opted to support horrific causes. Although there is the possibility that people who are excluded will do harm as a result of their rejection, one could argue that it is not the exclusion but the hateful ideology which causes harm. The consequences of allowing such an ideology to grow within one’s artistic community are far worse than those of exclusion because fringe groups can do far more harm with social inclusion than without it. When it comes to something like deplatforming, one sees that figures who are silenced and banned from social media forums lose a significant degree of their audience. Although those people are pushed into echo chambers where they are only surrounded by people who share their extreme views, they are not able to spread their message to a wider audience when they are ostracized in this manner. An artist should not abdicate control over their message when their message is being used for tremendous harm. That is the limit to allowing one’s audience the right to interpret one’s art. The playwright for “The Woman Who Gave Birth to Rabbits” echoed the same sentiment in our Q&A. In hearing from Richard, I can no longer state with confidence that punk rock artists are anarchist hooligans. On the contrary, they are as thoughtful as they are brash.

I thoroughly enjoyed the play, both in the reading at home and the live performance. I enjoyed it because it made me think. I knew there had to be a deeper idea than a mutated child at play. Reading the play through I did notice that there was an undertone of gendered mistreatment on the part of the husband. Mary claimed that Joshua had incessantly attempted to impregnate her even when she was not interested in having sex. Upon further examination, I posited that Joshua had objectified her and reduced her to a breeding animal, which is why the product of his endeavors was an actual animal. After watching the performance and hearing the playwright discuss the play, this thematic analysis still works but there is an even stronger thread of gendered themes at work. First, in the way that the actress who played Mary acted, she really brought out the life of the woman who this play is really about. She was very firm and spoke powerfully toward her husband about the abuse he had subjected her to. Additionally, there was an effort to make light of and ignore the struggle that Mary was discussing by the other people who were drinking and coming up with theories about the rabbit. This felt like a perfect demonstration of the idea that there are women who speak up about their discriminatory experiences but are silenced and shot down. Second, as the playwright made clear in the q&a, the play is based on a true story of a hoax of a woman who said she gave birth to rabbits. The question for him was why she would make something like that up. In the play, he explores the hypothesis that the kind of pressure which is placed on women by their husbands to become pregnant-at the loss of their bodily autonomy due to unlimited intercourse-is a probable cause as to why Mary made up this rabbit birth problem. One other part of the play I found intriguing, especially in the performance was how Joshua comes off as immensely naive about how his wife is feeling. He is concerned with his reputation and his child, not her well-being, and does not seem to recognize her feelings. Joshua is a good stand in for the social norms at the time, which were unconcerned with the concerns of women, but it is difficult for an audience to sympathize with him beyond his being a kind of tool of patriarchy who lacks the agency to move beyond the gender norms in which he lives. As far as the acting performance, I thought Thomas was going to be portrayed as a smug British guy but the actor reading for him interpreted his attitude as resembling more of a nonchalant, chill American. It is intriguing that every person develops their own vision of the characters in plays they read and those that actors see may be slightly different. 

I do not like rushing the art experience. This is because I think there is potentially a wealth of material to explore within a painting which can often take several minutes to uncover. Regrettably, I experienced the dissonance between this approach and that of my peers at the Night at the Brooklyn Museum. 

The group assignment created a certain pressure to analyze a piece of art within a specific time frame. However, there was more than enough time to complete this task free of any stress. The reason I felt a time crunch in spite of the allotted time was because my fellow students wanted to move on to other paintings. I could understand their frustration. I do not think one needs to discuss all levels of depth of a painting, from visual to the conceptual, in order to extract value from it. The issue arose when my fellow attendees did not seem intrigued at the prospect of having an-in depth conversation about any of those points of investigation when it came to other paintings. Roblin Meeks might say they want to look at paintings, but not see them.

The lack of interest in meaningful engagement on the part of my classmates is quite an unfortunate circumstance because when we did discuss the painting for the group assignment, they shared insights I never would have considered.

 

The painting we focused on in the group assignment was Southern Landscape (Southern Flood) by Eldzier Cortor, which was made in 1944-1945. The story of this painting is that there has been a flood and the black couple have been neglected by their society as they are left bereft of everything while their town is swept away. Those I was working with pointed out that there are telephone poles in the water which also resemble crosses. I was able to build on this astute observation of theirs. I believe that the drowning of the crosses conveys that either the institutions of the religion have failed to produce equality for black Americans, or that society has allowed its prized religious ideals to be destroyed by its racial caste system. A connection which my classmates made that resonated with me is to the biblical splitting of the sea. The flood waters are depicted in the painting as the barrier between the now-destitute black Americans and intact houses. The painting essentially claims that one would have to split the sea in order to reach safety. This connection further supports the idea that there is a massive gulf which must be crossed between the racial discrimination which currently exists and the equitable state of being that one ought to strive for.

 

Once we moved on to other pieces like the one above, I was perturbed by the unwillingness of my classmates to attempt to gain a more sophisticated view of art. This piece is Four Genders Were Born… by Nanibah Chacon (2022). The artwork engendered bewilderment and amusement on the part of my classmates. I can completely understand their feelings. What I cannot understand is why they did not seek to understand the work on any kind of deeper level. It is true that the painting is highly provocative. It appears to show a serious misplacement of genitalia. My initial response to this artwork-much like my classmates-was one of shock and revulsion. I wanted to look away. This is because the subjects appear to possess a deformity. However, the deeper understanding I garnered from this painting is that genitalia does seem to lack the significance it is traditionally ascribed in determining one’s gender. I observe a clear male and female in this painting even though the genitalia has been swapped. The facial features and the remainder of the body produce this gendered effect. Consequently, what this painting communicates in the bigger picture is that gender is nuanced and contains a myriad of characteristics aside from genitalia. Gender may be strongly associated with genitalia. That is why the image feels wrong. However, in contrast to conventional wisdom, gender is far more complicated than what is under one’s pants or dress.

I eventually found a buddy with whom to explore the museum in some depth for the remainder of the time. 

The above painting, Shifting the Gaze (2017) by Titus Kaphar, speaks to a common theme throughout the fifth floor collection: giving artistic expression to those whose voices are suppressed. This work merely involved painting white over the white figures in a Frans Hals painting. The purpose of this choice is to highlight the exclusion of those groups of people who were long neglected in art. I think this artistic decision is a grand idea. Every single individual deserves the opportunity to benefit from the value of art, which means that all groups should be included in the artistic conversation. The fifth floor contains a plethora of art made to tell the stories of indigenous people, minority women in prison and the black experience, among others. Telling these stories is essential because when people see subjects who look like themselves represented in art, they will feel included in the artistic dialogue and thus better able to benefit from any of the ideas fleshed out in the artwork. There was an entire section on the fifth floor dedicated to paintings of wealthy, white people who could afford to commission portraits of themselves. The purpose of including these is to demonstrate the contrast between the historical exclusivity which characterizes such commissioned art and the potential enriching impact that art can have if it emerges out of a wide range of backgrounds.

One painting which resonated with me was the above-A View of the Two Lakes and Mountain House, Catskills Mountains, Morning (1844) by Thomas Cole. This painting is powerful because of the small man looking out on this landscape in its bottom left. There is a beautiful depiction of greenery and towering mountains, but for me this is necessary but insufficient to evoke feelings of substantial agency. What provides the viewer vitality is the explorer who-stick in hand-is venturing out to the unknown to mark his acquisition of the territory. I was able to put myself in the explorer’s shoes and envision seeing this vast landscape before beginning an arduous hike.

Another painting which resonated with me was Sunset At Sea (1906) by Thomas Moran, which exhibits a glorious sunset over ocean waters. In a manner similar to the previous artwork, this painting does not alienate the viewer. The subtle way in which the image communicates agency is that there is a path shown to be seemingly open for travel through the turbulent waves. This is clear from the white reflection which flows through the valleys of the waves towards the middle of the painting. The viewer also feels as though he is being led to the sun, which is exhibited as the prominent source of power and energy. The sun blends into and almost seems to branch out into the clouds. The artist accomplishes this effect by coloring the clouds in various shades of orange depending on their distance from the sun. The viewer is made to feel like the sun has extended its influence over the other parts of the sky. Since the path through the ocean has been laid out towards this monumental celestial body, the painting further implies that it is reasonable for a person to aspire for the kind of vigor which the sun reflects on everything around it.

The final painting which appealed to me is Still Life with Fruit (1860) by Severin Roesen. Berger would dismiss this work as representing possession but I think he misses out on the value of the indulgence and luxury which is implied by such possession. The wine, the yellow grapes, and the sliced watermelons and lemons all convey exquisite pleasures and sublime affluence, even to a contemporary eye. In the case of sliced fruit, that is because one has the privilege of having food which is ready made to consume. At supermarkets today, sliced watermelon is more expensive than whole watermelon because of the additional value which the buyer receives from prepared food. Possession of such goods reflects possession of a highly desirable financial stability. My grandfather had a reputation for being a big-earner and big-spender and one of his sources of gratification was buying expensive fruit. He is who I think of when I view this image. My grandfather also loved to perform, which comes to mind in this image as well. There is the pleasure of the food and the wealth behind it which is conveyed, but there is even a performative aspect to one’s wealth, much like social media operates today. If a productive man two centuries ago wanted to show off his success, having a diversified fruit platter painted would certainly do so. I do not think there is anything wrong with material pleasure nor reveling in it. The viewer of this painting is given the opportunity to participate in not only the Dionysian lifestyle enabled by the security of massive wealth, but the pride which one can take in the pleasurable part of one’s existence. 

 

In sum, I was able to benefit from the input and company of my classmates as well as the art itself even if the situation was not ideal.

Art Lab felt like a blend of different junctures on my art appreciation journey. On one level, it was a regression to a bygone experience of art in my life. My friends and I were in an oil painting class with an instructor, trying our best to mimic the scene in front of us. This recalled my childhood experience of art as the exercise of a skill: developing a technical ability to mimic reality on a canvas. On the other hand, I gained thematic value from observing some of the art pieces which lined the walls, which is how I conceive of art’s value today. 

 

First, I spent my time in an oil painting class. The instructor, an artist herself, explained the process behind her realistic art. She starts abstractly and gradually attempts to replicate real world sights. These include apples and views from Staten Island.

My impression of the overall style of her works is that realism feels antiquated. I gain nothing exceptional from these images of fruit and a boat that a photograph couldn’t have communicated in the same way. That is not to say that a realistic painting has no value. However, a realistic painting does not provide any substantial unique value in terms of the medium itself. Realist art is impressive as far as the mechanics. A person is accomplishing what only a camera can do. However, creativity is limited in the painting process because the artist feels no need to communicate a message. In the same way that abstract expressionists rely on obscurity in lieu of a message, contemporary realist painters rely on their expertise. Their work is based on the notion that they don’t need to do the difficult work of revealing some theme of value because they can stand on their own competency. The vapidness of realism was confirmed by my own experience of actually performing oil painting.

 

I chose to paint pumpkins.

Initially, I believed that I would try to convey a message. I thought that the variation in the sizes of the pumpkins coupled with their closeness would convey that diverse things can meld well together. This kind of intentionality is artistic. It is the same reason why a photographer is an artist; they choose the subject and how to frame it. However, as soon as I began painting, my higher-order artistic thinking went out the window. All that was on my mind was how to produce the most accurate paint colors, paint the shadows and display all of the pertinent marks of the pumpkins. The artistry ceased once the shot was chosen and thus the resemblance to photography ended. That is because the goal of my realist art was to put my mental image on paper, unclouded by themes or emotions. The entire exercise felt juvenile, hearkening back to a time when the best artist in the class was the person who was most adept at using the medium. I feel like my view of “good art” has matured since that time. It is no longer based on adroitness in wetting the brush just enough to produce aesthetically pleasing strokes. Instead, it is found in the imagination which went into the piece, whether that was the thought behind what subjects to depict or how to depict them. One could argue that when one nails down the technical skills enough, one has the room to add in inventiveness. Professional artists are likely concerned with the message of their work no matter the genre. However, if the art is photorealistic, then there is no original thought beyond the initial framing phase. A painter of realism is best served by being as machine-like as possible.

Due to the emptiness of realism, my favorite part of my finished painting is my name. That part feels personal and infused with authentic thought unlike the remainder of the work.

 

The art on the walls of the Art Lab reminded me of where I find the substance in art.

First, this painting resonated with me because it has the elements which realism is missing. Through its manipulation of the size of objects, it conveys relative significance. That the sculpture, guitar and bottle of wine tower over the city exhibits that the arts and the bars are what the artist finds beloved in urban life. The relative size also relays the primacy of the individual. Rather than the collective force of the city, the objects which matter to a specific individual are given visual priority. Additionally, the purple colored sky conveys tranquility. The artist is communicating that they find immense solace in the highlighted aspects of their life.

Second, where I can appreciate realism is in the above painting, which also graced the Art Lab walls. The artistic value is found in the setting choice. In fact, this image would make for a photograph which is just as beautiful. The painting depicts an object of possession in a way Berger would have despised, but I find it quite charming. The image embodies the success of retirement. The caption ought to be: a person sighs with satisfaction and takes one last look from the dock at their boat after a long day of wading through the sea. What is picturesque is not even so much the sunset, but that the sunset feels like it is a merited reward. The spectator is placed in the shoes of a person who has earned the luxuries of island life after years of material acquisition. The sun is setting on one’s life and yet, this painting captures that one still has many moments left to relish in one’s own greatness. I don’t look forward to aging, but this painting makes me question whether I should. One dreams of coming to a point in life where one can just bask in all their accomplishments. There is nothing which says wallowing in one’s own success like buying a boat, which fulfills no practical need other than that very human impulse for delighting in one’s own preeminence.

 

The Counter does a fantastic job of posing friendship as the answer to the question of why live. The world is lonely, tragic and even boring, but friendship is life-affirming and agentic.

First, The Counter centers the viewer in a familiar setting to our own. Although in a rural town that differs from Staten Island’s suburban atmosphere, it is also an atomized world. Katie watches Netflix and goes on walks on her own. Life’s highlights are the movies and the grand opening of the new Whole Foods. The best part of Paul’s day is his conversation with the woman who serves him his morning coffee before a deep relationship even develops between them. It is telling that the characters are so removed from social institutions that their close relationships are with those who facilitate their consumption. That is because too often in the modern world, one’s identity is not built by human connection but by isolated consumption, whether of films or morning coffee. One might share their streaming site passwords with others, but the streaming itself is a secluded endeavor. It is simply not possible to share consumption, and so life remains solitary.

Friendship offers something substantive to share: one’s life. A true friend is the kind Paul describes towards the beginning of the play. A friend is a person who can be relied on and who can help one deal with life’s problems. This cliche definition is revealed to have tremendous utility in explaining the value of friendship. As Paul and Katie share their secrets with each other like some kind of teenage party game, they end up becoming each other’s backbones in their respective struggles trying to escape their lives. Paul had judged Katie for leaving her city life behind and Katie Paul’s adultery and suicidal ideation. However, they came to empathize with one another and comprehend why they each felt so desperate for an escape hatch. Furthermore, the play demonstrates that sharing lives involves not merely sympathetic spectating, but actively participating in each other’s lives. For instance, Katie encourages Paul to learn Italian and pursue his forbidden love. Additionally, the revelation of Katie’s hysterectomy pulls Paul off the edge because each was a stakeholder in the story of the other. However, the unparalleled instance which profoundly conveys that friendship entails being contributors to one another’s lives is when an exhilarated Paul pushes Katie to reunite with the guy who friendzoned her. He grabs her by the shoulders and effectively wills her out of the door of the cafe to go meet him. Katie trusts Paul because he has become her pillar, just as she has become his. The play’s ending thus imparts that the friendship bond-the sharing of a life-is not only one of mutual confidants and advisors, but active partners who help one another be the best versions of themselves.

Second, friendship is posited as a remedy for life’s tragic nature. The Counter claims life is tragic because of its inevitable calamities. This is indicated by Paul’s description of the powerlessness he feels in fending off aging and the grief which remains from the deaths of his close family members. As a result of this grim perspective, Paul views control over his own death as the only area where he can exert some measure of autonomy. In correspondence with this, Katie found herself paralyzed, in her case by illness and unforeseeable relationship issues. She seeks to control her own destiny by exercising her freedom to escape. Escape is conceived of as the one choice people are left with during an unmanageable catastrophe. Yet, escape is an anti-social choice. It is clear how that is true of suicide. The extreme ghosting Katie engages in-the moving seven hours away kind of ghosting-is also an attempt to break loose from social connection. Although she is fleeing the discomfort that comes with being friendzoned, a fundamental part of relationships is that they don’t always turn out how one expects.There is another person involved after all. Thus, Katie’s ghosting is an escape from discomfiture which is intrinsic to mutual social connection. 

As opposed to escape’s disengagement from others, friendship rectifies a part of life’s pains in one simple sense because it provides a shoulder to cry on. Paul details how he is tired of hearing shallow remarks of comfort as he walks in the street. He despises Peg’s pity. Pity is the surface-level sadness one expresses at the misfortune of another. True friendship means empathy, which is suffering with another person-not expressing heartache at another’s pain in a way which makes them feel inferior. For instance, a friend’s empathy is how Katie divulges her secret illness history. She displays that she feels compelled enough by the pain of Paul’s story to share her own with him.

A second more complex way that friendship resolves the inherent tragedy of life is that it provides a measure of dignity. Paul hates pity because it robs him of his self-respect. Friendship not only provides compassion which doesn’t demean a person, but is a mechanism for autonomy, which produces pride. Unlike the great careers and life partners Paul had waited for, Paul consciously chooses to open himself up and court the friendship of Katie. He makes a move at the counter and admits he isn’t happy being an acquaintance. Friendship cannot be accomplished by idleness. It requires people to break the ice and continually reinvest their energy into caring about one another. A true friendship is something which requires taking responsibility and making a continuous commitment to prioritize the relationship. Paul is a little shocked that Katie is upset about his being sick for a day. However, he shouldn’t be. She is his friend and in being such, had taken on the mantle of overseeing his well-being. One lesson of Paul and Katie’s relationship is that the fundamental ennobling choice of one’s life is whether one takes a deep interest in the lives of the people around them. 

Third, The Counter asserts that friendship infuses life with novelty. This is because people get bored of themselves. On one occasion, Paul laments that he has gotten the gist of life’s monotonous routine. On another, he says that if he doesn’t sleep, he just talks to himself for hours. Arguably, Paul finds life dull because nearly all of his life is spent talking to himself. His life is only kept stimulating because he has another person in Katie-whose mind he does not have access to-with whom to share his thoughts. Even Paul’s hobby of learning Italian is intrinsically communicative. Since he is not going to Italy, the value he gains from the pastime comes from speaking to Katie in Italian. 

Friendship is gripping because there is usually always something to learn about one’s friend. Even when one thinks they have learned it all, built-in to human relations is that two minds cannot see each other’s thoughts. As long as there is no telepathy, human beings will be forced to face one unknown, which is the other. The whole reason why Paul and Katie-why any human beings for that matter-can have a back and forth dialogue where they have “fights” and not gauge each other’s responses is because they are of separate minds. This trait gives friendships dynamism, which comes with both instability and innovation. Paul is looking for “surprise” which is why he would like Katie to decide when to kill him. He can’t access the thought process of a friend and as a result, Katie being given discretion means he wouldn’t know when his death is coming. Paul was banking on the precariousness of friendship. Sometimes people freak out and overreact to things. If Katie were to kill him, it would be because she had lost her mind. As Paul says, people do that on occasion. Instead, Paul discovers that friendship can produce an optimistic form of surprise-the unexpected progress of a friend. At the end of the play, Katie’s situationship comes to meet her in town. Paul is enlivened by the new developments in her relationship and the potential for her to not only connect with a great guy but repair what has broken her for years. Katie declares this series of events the “surprise” Paul had been looking for. That is because friendship brings constant newness. Friendship provides the potential for one’s companion to unpredictably alter their circumstances and thought processes. Personal change is premeditated, but constructive change in a friend’s life is something one only catches glimpses of when it is shared with them. Paul got in on the ground floor of bettering a friend’s life, which is the exact kind of new modulation he ached for.

One could come away from The Counter feeling depressed. The play explores the idea that all people are in a sense waiting for the aging process and death to rob them of everything they ever had or loved. In fact, it is helpful to conceive of life as waiting in a waiting room. There is nothing more soulless than that. One may skim through magazines, but they provide nothing of substance. Additionally, the strangers one sits across from may curl their lips into a semi-smile for a moment but they will immediately retreat into their own distant world. To top it all off, one is impotent in speeding up what feels like an endless process. The Counter asks one to imagine that a close friend has walked into this waiting room. The atmosphere changes completely. In addition to fixing the loneliness of not having someone to delay life with, the presence of a buddy actually ends the eventless interlude. First, speaking with a friend ends the tyranny of the staff who usher in the next appointment. One partakes actively in friendship rather than being idle and letting the outside world dictate one’s “waiting room” experience. This agency is paramount to a joyful life. Additionally, whereas one had lacked spirit, one gains seemingly limitless energy. This is because a person is no longer imprisoned with their own thoughts. Instead, one has surprises at their fingertips in the form of hearing about their friend’s experiences and living through this new experience together. This is how a single friend can transform the gray paint on the walls of the doctor’s office waiting room into a vibrant rainbow. The Counter expresses that friendship makes life worth living because it stops the lonely, feebling and insipid waiting in its tracks. Katie was Paul’s waitress. By the end of the show, she is his friend.

 

My piece of protest art expressed opposition to the brutal violence of the far-right death squads in El Salvador, which were part of extremist paramilitary groups that terrorized their own people and which were secretly funded by American aid. This work was critical more broadly of all of the far-right death squads in Latin America which were supported by the US in order to suppress far-left revolutionaries. These extremist militant groups killed many innocent people in order to stamp out communist political movements, yet many of their victims were not even communists, but centrists or people uninvolved in politics altogether. This piece of art was important because there was American support-as part of the Cold War-for brutal regimes and groups which devastated the lives of innocent people for political purposes. America sought to support these anti-communist forces even though they carried out tremendous violence. There was a lack of awareness among the American public of the kinds of atrocities which were being perpetrated by those with US support. Additionally, there was also a lack of concern-likely due to racism-for the lives of Latin American people, who were viewed as pawns in the greater geopolitical struggle against the Soviet Union. Golub used this protest art to awaken American hearts to the injustices being enabled by the American government. He portrayed the victims and perpetrators with white skin in order that his American audience could connect to the violence. The portrayal of a policeman who is wearing a uniform which looks American also taps into the American understanding of police violence and seeks to apply that experience to the terror occurring in Latin America. Today this painting resonates very differently because it just appears to be an American policeman to a contemporary eye rather than a foreign militant force. Modern onlookers are familiar with images of policemen wielding their guns and forcing innocent people to the ground and this image evokes an objection to unrestrained police violence. Additionally, the kind of power which is exerted over the civilian depicted and the villainous resentment displayed by the officer’s facial expression provides the American viewer with a sense of cruelty. The officer displays total callousness, which is an appalling indictment of what the justice system does when contrasted with how it ought to act. Those who are more geopolitically acquainted may see in this work an allusion to the kinds of US military aid which is still given to ruthless forces-like Saudi Arabia in prosecuting their horrific war in Yemen. However, the average American viewer of this piece today feels the brutishness of the American police above anything else.

At first, the gongs were irritating. Periodic thunderous blasts from the third floor of a museum can disturb one’s focus on an art display if one is simply trying to establish their footing. However, as I plunged deep into the content of the Rubin, I noticed that these gongs worked in concert with the art to transport me into a meditative realm. I stood before every painting for minutes, not only observing its details but participating in a conversation with the artist. Rather than being unshackled from my own experiences and values, I brought all of myself to this dialogue in order to meaningfully interact with and extract as much possible value from the pieces of art on display. For the first time in my life in an art museum, I took the time not merely to gallop from piece to piece like I was in some kind of buffet, but to absorb the meaning of the paintings, let such thoughts ruminate and reflect.  

The Rubin does a remarkable job of assembling a collection of pieces which encompasses those which are a millenia old to those which were literally made in the last few years.      

One of the contemporary pieces which resonated with me was that of New World by Roshan Pradhan (2021). I am as much of a fan of technological progress as anyone. I don’t fear the gears or the robot bees depicted in this painting and I think the background of large columns suspended in the sky conveys that any kind of future society that employs robotic technology will be high-achieving and heavenly in its standards of living. However, this painting evokes my dread of the robotic era because it emasculates me, the male viewer. The robot in this painting assumes a dominant sexual position and provides the ultimate erotic satisfaction to the woman whose legs are wrapped around him. He also produces offspring which swim through the body of water below him. It is one thing for humans to use increasingly advanced robots or even to be replaced entirely by robots in the far future. However, this painting presents me with the terrifying prospect of competing directly with robots-which means inevitable failure and subjugation. I face no chance of success in the sexual marketplace against a machine designed for stimulation. Nevertheless, the robot of New World has not only bested me in pleasing a beautiful woman but while shoving this in my face, he parades around his robotic bloodline of superior humanoids. Thus, the robot has not only defeated me but his children will one day rule over my children in the same fashion. 

In this painting, there is a glimpse of the robot’s threat to take away what gives men like me meaning, which is to be a magnetic figure who attracts and inspires. The kind of force of personality required to seduce and satisfy is something one would never think to ascribe to a robot, which our culture views as stiff and emotionless. Nevertheless, New World imagines that we have entered a phase of progress where robots thrive in the sexual sphere. This means they have acquired a liveliness that is all-too-human and which threatens the sexual monopoly which human men currently enjoy with women. However, even beyond romantic partners, the robots threaten to outperform men in the masculine charm which is used to attract them. The loss of exclusive control over such an aura-the product of self-assertiveness and heroism-means the loss of animating energy for many men. This new world is petrifying because the human man is absent from the picture, just as he is nowhere to be found in this painting. Men are not present in this concocted dystopia because they have been surpassed by a race of charismatic robots.

A second work of contemporary art which I connected with at the Rubin is A Crime with Mother by Tenzin Gyurmey Dorjee (2022).  The subject of this painting wears a sweatshirt with an American rock song. Half of his head has been transformed into a skull because he feels he has committed a great moral evil by consuming meat. I do not know what it’s like to treat vegetarianism as a religious or legal obligation as opposed to a personal commitment. However, I do feel connected to a universal theme that this painting touches on, which is managing the guilt and social consequences of assimilation. If this painting had replaced the cow with a pig, I would have believed you if you had told me that it was created by a Jewish artist. That is because there was somewhere in my own familial line where someone had to contend with whether or not they would consume a non-kosher diet in America. I don’t feel like I am worthy of death when I consume pork, but in my community certain lifestyle choices that depart from the Jewish tradition feel unethical. For instance, I would feel a moral blight if I married outside of my faith. 

The blackness of the dead cow and its face’s fearful expression are chilling. These sights make the viewer feel the moral cost that is weighing on the painting’s subjects. The cow’s fright is burned into the minds of those who consumed him. I wouldn’t know how to artistically render-in as poignant a manner as this startled cow-the blameworthiness I’d feel at ending my long-line of Jewish ancestry. That may be because it is not as easy to pinpoint the victims of Jewish intermarriage as those of meat-eating, since the injured party is not right on your plate. 

The young man and his mother also wear handcuffs because eating meat is illegal. This artistic choice alludes to the maltreatment imposed by a community upon a “sinner.” In the case of intermarriage, many families and synagogues will engage in social ostracization and treat the intermarried person as an outcast. These externally imposed costs would probably be more painful for me than any moral qualm I had with my behavior because of how critical these social bonds are to the quality of my life. 

The photo of Gandhi hanging on the wall, staring at the mother and son with a judgmental expression, is reminiscent of the photos of rabbis which are on the walls of Jewish households like my own. The rabbi serves as a symbol of one’s spiritual and communal identity. Gandhi’s affect here implies that the picture’s orientation changes based on the household’s loyalty to religious doctrine. If the subjects of the painting had sacrificed their own pleasure and not consumed meat, Gandhi would’ve been a source of pride and smiled lovingly at them. However, to see Gandhi in the midst of their sin only compounds the feeling that they have betrayed their moral compass and he glares at them like an ashamed father. 

I was perplexed by the mother’s buffalo head. Although in one sense, she may be hiding behind a disguise, the mask itself is unsettling. It looks like a murderer’s attire-the kind that one would only expect to see in a horror movie. One way to interpret this costume is that just as the son in the painting has a partly skeletal face because he believes his actions have made him akin to Death himself, the mother feels she resembles a killer so senseless that they would wear their victim’s body parts on themselves. The painting is not realistic, but seeks to portray how the mother and son genuinely feel about their actions.

The Rubin Museum also provides a wealth of art depicting Hindu Gods and Goddesses which I was able to explore on a whole new level. One such piece of art is the Two-Sided Festival Banner of Varunani and Varahi from 17th/18th century Nepal. 

I have very little experience with Hinduism. Their Gods are completely foreign to my own religion of Judaism, which is a transcendent monotheism that views depictions of God as a grave affront. On their face, the Hindu Gods resemble refined and powerful animals to whom one prays for protection. This image could confirm that presumption. However, I sought to discover the message communicated by this work of art using its elements alone without any prior knowledge of Hindu teachings. 

The Hindu Gods appear to be worldly, which is usually a pejorative characterization in a religious context, but I mean worldliness to be a positive attribute in that the Gods symbolize and inspire material success. Varahi’s attire is elegant, including her robes, foot jewelry, crown, earrings and bracelets. Rather than merely being described as immensely powerful, she is shown to be, as she has many arms and holds a scepter in one of them. Her multiple arms demonstrate that she has the ability to accomplish many things simultaneously and her scepter reveals that she wields earthly authority. 

I had the most difficulty understanding how such a glamorous goddess could be a red boar. The answer I take from this painting is that there is a kind of ruthlessness, which is animalistic and evoked by the bloody tint of red, that may be at times required for worldly success. In a dog-eat-dog world, self-preservation involves getting one’s hands dirty. When I think of a boar I think of a creature that will do anything to get its food and that is why this goddess is not any old goddess. She is a beautiful boar goddess. 

As a person who would like to succeed in the rat race, Varahi provides me with inspiration. To worship her means to worship the ideals she embodies, which include the acquisition of power and wealth. A goddess like this is a breath of fresh air from the other-worldliness of my own religion and Christian culture which says that moral goodness necessitates withdrawal from the world. Varahi uses her wealth and power not merely for her own glory but also to protect her worshippers. She teaches us the priceless lesson that whether we are trying to improve the quality of life for ourselves or others, we need to act within the real world and the system we exist under in order to make tangible improvements.

Another set of works at the Rubin which shed light on Hinduism and its departure from Judeo-Christian culture were sculptures like the one above, Chakrasamvara In Union With Consort Vajravarahi from 14th century Tibet. The sculpture depicts a god and goddess in loving embrace and trampling upon another supernatural duo. I was flabbergasted when I saw these figures because my experience with religion has been that intimacy and dominion over others are things which should not be glorified. To exert domineering power over others in western culture is a mark of cruelty and exploitation. Additionally, intimate sexual acts are meant to be private. Even if these things are not viewed negatively, they are not meant to be idolized. I see great bravado in the artist’s choice of subject. Not only are these gods crowned with Jewels and carrying the symbols of power but they are displaying their power to all. I feel exhilarated as I look at this sculpture and am met with a romance. This sculpture does not facilitate a one sided interaction between the female subject and the male spectator. There is complete sexual participation by each party, which makes the work feel even more invigorating. I see in this divine pair a vibrant relationship and a true power couple: a paragon of love and success. With fire blazing in the background, I am electrified by the thought of dancing away the night with the love of my life as my competitors falter beneath me.

I would like to compare what I came to see in the Rubin as the traditional Hindu depiction of the Gods and one of the contemporary works which missed the mark. One of the pieces that I adored was Durga Killing The Buffalo Demon from 13th Century Nepal and one which I did not care for was Compassion by Jasmine Rajbhandari (2023). I loved the sculpture of Durga, like many of the other Hindu pieces, because of her vitality. She has triumphed in battle; she is elegant and wealthy; she has a multitude of limbs-some of which carry weapons-conveying her versatility. Durga is the ultimate expression of the worldly glory that human beings can aspire to, which is found in her military victory, material gains and her success in multiple areas of life. 

On the other hand, Compassion portrays the Gods as healers or providers to victims of warfare. I absolutely believe in emulating the selflessness of the Gods. However, this feels like an inversion of what individuals ought to take from Them. People should not be dependent on deities. The consequence of that mindset will be feebleness and ineptitude. War is an exception in that people cannot provide for themselves. However, the greatness of the Gods, which is supposed to inspire people to action, is displayed as assisting the weak. This creates a subliminal lack of agency on the part of the viewer. The viewer will feel justified in awaiting the aid of the Gods, as opposed to their acting as role models for human achievement. 

One of the striking ways in which the divergence between strength and weakness is illustrated by the visual differences in the paintings is the gendered characteristics of the Gods. Durga is sculpted as a powerful woman with accentuated female features. The protagonists in Compassion are enlivened, androgynous statues. The result is that one of these artworks feels more human. It is difficult for me to feel a connection to alien-like floating beings. However, sex is a defining human characteristic and plays a vital role in establishing human identity. What Hindu Gods can do well is capture the greatest hopes and dreams of every young person. However, even if such a person’s dream was to be the greatest caregiver there ever was, there is little to latch onto in Compassion. The viewer is an outsider observing a foreign species helping those who cannot help themselves. With Durga’s statue, even a young male is rejuvenated with energy seeing a female goddess place all of her effort into becoming the top dog. 

There were two pieces from the Rubin to which I would apply the colloquial use of the term “modern art.” Goddess of Tangerine by Kunsang Gyatso (2023) appealed to me while The Womb & The Diamond by Charwei Tsai (2021) felt ineffective. One of the reasons these works are “modern art” is that in both one has to learn from elsewhere the context and story behind the pieces in order to appreciate them. 

Goddess of Tangerine imagines a reality where the tangerine is worshiped because the fruit is on the verge of extinction. It is outlandish and at first I was going to write it off as absurd. However, while one has to do mental legwork to gain some profound meaning from the work-also conventional wisdom about modern art-there were insights that the piece brought forth and made clearer to me. One is the idea that everything will decay and die, or impermanence. This was signified by the physical tangerines which are displayed at different stages of their life cycle. I meditated on the idea that I, like a tangerine’s bright orange, am now youthful and strong but I will gradually lose my vigor and robust frame until I turn into nothingness. This sentiment empowers my ego and drive. If tomorrow is not guaranteed, then I must strive for greatness today. Additionally, the work invites the viewer to question why certain things are worshiped. I found myself asking, why do we worship things which are rare? Aren’t the most beautiful things, like love and God, those things which are universally accessible? Something can be precious and worth appreciating without it being rare. However, people often worship those things which are rare and assign them a high monetary value even though they may not be of any intrinsic worth. In the case of the tangerine, it is being worshiped because it is on the brink of extinction and contributes essential value to the ecosystem. There is a dialogue and a story to interact with in Goddess of Tangerine, even if one has to read them on the plaque first. 

In the case of The Womb & The Diamond, I felt no connection to the ideas that the artist intended to represent. As I learned from the plaque, there was a lot of blowing and recitations which went into making all of the glass bubbles and tiles. The shapes look alike and so they’re supposed to represent interconnectedness and the universal potential of every human being to achieve nirvana. My feeling is that this is a completely one sided art endeavor. There was a lot of intentionality which went into the work but none of that is known to the audience. In addition, I feel as though interconnectedness should be based on something more substantive. Shouldn’t such a profound idea be inferred from something other than a bunch of identical shapes? If I were to make many different glass squares or paper triangles which all looked the same, would that also represent interconnectedness? 

In summation, the substance of Goddess of Tangerine had to be given to the audience but felt meaningfully connected to the artwork. In contrast, The Womb & The Diamond not only required a background, but its message lacked a concrete connection to the work itself.

To conclude, I had a phenomenal trip to the Rubin. I traveled with another student and ended up staying from eleven to four (the museum’s hours are eleven to five). My peer explored the whole museum, went out to eat and to the park and all the while I was still in the museum basking in the art. It was an unbelievable opportunity to explore non-Western art and dive deep into other religions and cultures. For the first time, I acquired my own sense of what Hinduism is about. I was also able to connect with universal themes like coping with assimilation and recognize trends in artistic style-like “modern art”-in works which come from an entirely different area of the world. I realized that no matter the country in question, the most fundamental human ideals lie at the heart of artistic expression.